


He Kept it Warm for him

by ladyprydian



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 07:39:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyprydian/pseuds/ladyprydian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He promised John a lot of things all those months ago before he was shipped out to Afghanistan.</p><p>Note: Please do not redistribute my fanfiction on other archives or sites without my express permission. Thank you</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Kept it Warm for him

**Author's Note:**

> Another fill for a Sherlockbbc_fic prompt, the link to which I have lost. Yeah. Not so good at that. It was posted there properly and on my lj (Feb 17th, 2012).
> 
> Standard disclaimer or no Beta or Britpicker as this, originally, was a quick fill. Cleaned up somewhat, please point out any errors you see. 
> 
> Prompt was as follows:  
>  _John and Sherlock were in an established relationship when John went off to Afghanistan. He left most of his things in London, including a blue scarf Sherlock starts to wear everywhere--even long after John's scent has faded from it._
> 
>  
> 
> _The day John returns, Sherlock unties the scarf from around his neck and wraps it around John's. And then uses it to tug John in to kiss him senseless._

He promised to eat.

To sleep.

To stay safe.

To keep the flat in a relative state of cleanliness, “relative” in the John Watson dictionary meant, ‘keep the experiments in the kitchen please, properly labelled if they are going in the fridge, freezer or any other area where food stuffs is kept. Thank you.’ (The use of expletives and tone of voice could vary depending on how exasperated John was when he was using the term "relative".)

He promised a lot of things, all those months ago, before John was shipped out to Afghanistan.

Some of the promises he broke (left feet, left hands, leftovers they all started with “L” so why shouldn’t they all be indexed together in the same place?), but there was one promise he kept. Wrapped securely around his neck, or tucked into a pocket. 

_And for God’s sake keep warm if it’s cold out Sherlock. I don’t want my commanding officer to wake me at some silly o’clock telling me that you’ve come down with pneumonia, again. I can’t bring you soup and lemon tea when I’m in Afghanistan. Why? Because there is a small problem of me being in another country, Sherlock._ (Again, the use of expletives and tone of voice could vary when John was saying this to him.)

John’s blue scarf, a gift from Sherlock the first Christmas they were together as a couple, was always with him even though it no longer smelled of John’s aftershave and shampoo. And if he brought it to bed with him and buried his nose in it, well, no one was the wiser.

The months, long dreary dull sycophantic John-less months, dragged on until the day of the terrifying phone call. He had taken it while discussing a case with Lestrade.  
An official from the Ministry of Defence calling the next of kin of Capt. John H. Watson. Succinct terms, which explained and revealed nothing, said Captain Watson has been injured in the line of duty. Initial surgery went well and his prognosis was good but he was currently being flown from Afghanistan to a military hospital in Germany. Do wait for further communication, thank you and have a pleasant day.

Buzzing cotton wool.

The sound of a phone clattering to the floor.

A strong arm leading him home.

A gruff voice making a phone call.

A phone call from Mycroft saying that John was going to make a modest but there is residual damage recovery. Germany for three more corrective surgeries, so far no severe complications except for a slight touch of infection and discomfort due to the pins and wires holding his shoulder together. Yes there will be a certain amount of nerve damage. Yes he will require physiotherapy and NO SHERLOCK, you may be listed as next of kin but you are technically not family so I can’t get you into the hospital so stop hounding me and don’t you DARE try to get in on your own. What I can give you is a phone number. 

A call made. 

John sounding woozy then tired then stronger then woozy again. Wash, rinse, repeat as surgeries are performed.

Then, finally, a call saying that John will be coming home and would Sherlock want to meet him?

Yes. Yes he would. Emphatically.

He waits impatiently, shifting from one foot to the other. Mycroft hovering in the background like some over grown mother hen.

He sees him. _His John_. Limping (psychosomatic injury to his right leg causing him to walk with a cane in his left hand which causes more pain in his left shoulder – the shoulder in which he was shot – causing more pain in the psychosomatic leg. Priority: Rid John of his prop). Face pinched with pain and determination to walk under his own steam. _No I do not need that wheelchair. Thank you very much._

Eyes lock. 

_(You promised)_

_(I promised)_

Bodies in motion remain in motion as long as no forces act upon them or, in this case, until the appropriate distance has been covered. 

Promises are like rules. They are meant to be broken. So what if the fridge is full of various inedible bits or that the bathtub is currently the home for four ducklings instead of soap rings and hard water stains. Or that John wasn’t supposed to get hurt because that is Just. Not. Allowed. 

What matters is the here and now. 

The press of soft blue wool being looped around a neck. 

The warmth of a lover’s kiss. 

And the rest? The rest is transport.


End file.
